


those we leave behind

by GodOfLaundryBaskets



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, Introspection, No beta we die like mne, Post-Season/Series 02, Raymond Chestnut-centric, feelings are hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:34:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25844371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodOfLaundryBaskets/pseuds/GodOfLaundryBaskets
Summary: Raymond sits there, mind spinning betweenwhat the hell is he going to tell everyoneandtime travel, when suddenly there is a flash of light and a pop. And then, Allison is back in his kitchen looking at him with wide eyes.Or Raymond has some feelings and the Hargreeves decide to use Allison's house in 1963 as a place to regroup after the season 2 finale.
Relationships: Raymond Chestnut/Allison Hargreeves
Comments: 35
Kudos: 474





	those we leave behind

Raymond sits at the kitchen table holding the letter. He thinks about the wine that Allison brought home the other night when she'd gone out with her... family. Drinking while he was out organizing away without her for the first time in more than a year. He'd still been reeling from the apparent betrayal of thinking she was part of the FBI or CIA or some other three letter acronym that was determined to stop their protest.

But apparently the truth was so much weirder than he could have expected. He still isn’t sure how he feels about everything that's gone down this past week. The weight of all the revelations pushing his shoulders down; he can feel it dragging on him. Whether he is still in shock or... The paper crinkles in his hand as he clenches it and feels the hot sting in the corners of his eyes. He is going to miss her. The way she smiled and the smell of her hair in the morning and the warmth of her pressed against him.

She had lit up his life in a way no other woman had and now that she is gone there is an aching emptiness clawing to get out of his chest. He knew he had to stay. There is so much work left to be done during this time still, but it didn't mean that it didn't _hurt_. Losing her.

He feels the press of his wedding ring encircling his finger and wonders for a moment if he shouldn’t just take it off. It’s a simple band. He hadn’t wanted anything fancy and he didn't regret that choice. Just having Allison, he was sure, would be enough for him. Except now, this is all he has. The reality of it is just sinking in. That he lost his wife. Suddenly, as if she had died.

Oh, God. He sits up suddenly, smoothing the letter out flat on the table once again. What is he going to tell the barbershop? He can’t show them the letter. It is crazy. He didn't know if they'd think he made it up or... what. He wouldn't believe it, hadn't believed it, until Allison forced his eyes open and proved that she had super powers over and over again. Forced him to see all the little details he'd been brushing off till that point.

He isn’t even sure if 'brushing off' is the right turn of phrase. Who in the world could come up with this kind of conclusion? Time travel and super powers? This is something out of a comic book. But Allison had been trained to fight better than anyone else he'd known even though she was a black woman and there aren’t many places that a black woman would be allowed to learn those kinds of moves. But how was he expected to have reached _time travel_?

He sits there, mind spinning between _what the hell is he going to tell everyone_ and _time travel_ , when suddenly there is a flash of light and a pop. And then, Allison is back in his kitchen looking at him with wide eyes. It takes a moment to register the other people filling what little other space the kitchen has with the static filling his ears and his vision tunneling as he stands up. 

(When had he last ate? When had he last seen Allison?)

He slams a hand down on the kitchen table to keep his balance unable to tear his eyes away from her. She is still wearing the same dress she had been when she left, though it’d gotten ripped and covered with damp dirt. It also had the added effect of quieting the whole room. He hadn't even noticed the noise until it's absence. He drags his eyes away from her, taking in the motley crew she brought with her.

They are all breathing heavily. Bloody most of them. He recognizes most of the faces and tries to pull up names through the static. They still didn't look like a _family_. The room remains silent for a moment longer, before the child — Five, Allison had mentioned him and the name stuck out — disappears from his place in the center of the group and appears on top of the table before slamming down the briefcase.

And with that the moment of peace shatters.

"Well, I mean... it was August 2nd," Luther offers up. It is still so strange (unsettling) to see such a huge white man in his kitchen. Time hadn’t made him any smaller — or did anything to alter the unnaturally _largeness_ of him — though at least he isn’t on the edge of tears this time.

"What an insight, _Luther_. Do you have any more stunning insights to share with us?" Five snarls. They all look a bit rough for wear, but Five seems to almost be vibrating where he stands. Absolutely caked in dust and quite a bit of blood as well though none of it seemed particularly fresh. Every movement he makes is a jerk followed by half a flinch that Raymond’s not sure the rest notice as the yelling continues.

"Look, I'm just saying—," Diago starts.

"We are _not_ killing Dad!" a chorus of voices ring out as they turn as one to stare him down.

"I just don't see how that will make it worse," Diago says with a shrug as he steps away and pulls open the refrigerator.

Raymond nearly jumps out of his skin as he feels a hand touch his shoulder. Allison jerks her hand back and Raymond takes a deep breath trying to focus on something, anything, to get his racing pulse back under control. "Allison, what is going on?"

"I left you a letter—," she says as she gently steers him out of the kitchen and into the living room. Leaving the room of shouting white men behind. Not a bad idea. 

The only other woman follows them into the living room, trailing slightly behind both of them. She is also white, but quiet and small, and he had almost overlooked her in the tornado of chaos they were leaving in the kitchen. Vanya, her face had been all of the news. The Russian spy.

He refocuses his attention back on Allison. The letter crushed in his hand once again in his hand. Had he picked it up? He must have. "I got that. It doesn't explain..." He took a deep breath, looking back over his shoulder. He shifts so that he could gesture back at the entire kitchen and the people still yelling at each other there.

"I know," she grimaces in that way he had started to realize means she's thinking about whether or not to lie to him about her family.

"Just tell me. It can't be any weirder than you controlling people with your mind."

"We made it back to the future," Vanya says softly making him jump again as he jerks around to see her. She gives a shrug, "It wasn't our future though."

"Five wanted a place to regroup while we figure out what our next step is. Away from the academy," Allison says. "I know I shouldn't have suggested our house but... no one else had any better ideas."

"Look," Raymond says, "I don't know what's going on. Can you explain it in 10 words or less."

"I _am_ a fucking adult, Luther! What do I have to do to get it through your pea sized brain?" Five's screech breaks in. Raymond looks over. The kid, who is standing on the table, in a rich-white-kid-boarding-school kinda uniform is shouting. He gestures back towards the tableau.

Raymond turns back to Allison, both of his eyebrows raised. "I mean, can you explain any of—" Raymond gestures, futility, again. He doesn't think there _can_ be an explanation, if he's honest with himself. "—that."

Allison pinches the bridge of her nose. “I don’t even know where to start.”

She flops on the couch and Vanya joins her shortly. He assumed she was Allison's sister. He assumed this was her family. "Are you a Russian spy?" he asks before he can help himself.

Allison grimaces. "She is not. I should've figured— but no, she's my sister. Vanya, this is—," she cuts herself off and purses her lips as if chewing on her words. Trying to figure out what they are to each other now. The letter burns in his hand. "This is my husband, Raymond."

"Uh, hi," Vanya says. She gives a wave of her hand before dropping it back into her lap and staring blankly back at the men who are still arguing in his kitchen.

His heart clenches again. Did it really take so little time for a marriage to fall apart? He didn't know how to take this constant back and forth. Wait, no. How long had it been for her? He has assumed not much given the general state of the motley crew but he could be wrong. "It's been a day and a half," he says. "For me at least."

"No that sounds about right," Allison says.

"And they are _all_ your family?" He didn't mean to sound dubious. He knew he did. But he couldn't help but think back to the calm poise Allison always carried herself and compare that to the utter chaos unfolding in their kitchen. How is he supposed to react to this?

"Unfortunately," she says flatly.

"And they all can really do...?" He wiggles his fingers. He wonders what he is even asking at this point. Could they all mind control people? Is this ESP? _Is_ she from the government after all only it wasn't after their movement. Maybe they were being sent after the Russian spies? His eyes slip back towards Vanya as he edges past her and sits on the arm of the couch, gathering Allison's hand in his free one.

"Well, not all the same. Obviously. But yeah, they all are a little bit special." There is a biting tone to her voice. Like she got when she was smiling sickly sweet at someone while daring them to call her a liar or, as he learned recently, like she was about to hand them their ass.

There's a blue flash and the kid — Five — appears in front of Allison. He points a finger at her face; he's at eye level only by the virtue of Allison sitting down. Raymond flinches away as Five snarls, "You! You have to keep them here or else—"

"I heard a rumor you took a nap and felt much better when you woke up," Allison says. She rolls her eyes catching Raymond's by chance and grins tiredly as she reaches out and catches the kid from where he collapses like all the strings holding him up were suddenly cut; his face slack and his breathing deep. Allison gathers him up and lays him down, putting his head in her lap and his feet across Vanya's lap. The hairs on the nape of Raymonds neck rise again at the reminder of her power. Of all their powers.

"Look, can we crash on the floor here for the night. I," she trails off and glances at his hands. One of them holding hers and the other... she seems to just notice the letter he's still clenching in it. She clears her throat and looks back down at Five and smooths down his hair. She's still wearing her wedding ring. His heart catches in his throat and he just wishes to God he knew what to do.

"...I know you weren't expecting this. We'll find another place tomorrow but it's—" Allison blinks. Her hand stills for a moment and her breath hitches. She gives a horse laugh before continuing, voice tight, "been a long day. I think."

"Yes," the answer tears itself from him before he can think better of it. The shards of his heart grinding together and he doesn't know what he wants. He doesn't know. He wants so much. He wants to take back this whole week and go back before he knew any better. He just. Wants.

He takes a deep breath and can feel his own hitch. The tears breaking on the horizon. He'd been convinced he wasn't going to get to say goodbye. Not in a real way. That she was going to get the last words as she always did. Trying to convince himself it was for the best. And here she is. Again.

His voice is still hoarse but firmer this time, as he says, again, "Yes."

**Works inspired by this one:**

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